Dragon's Heir
by Sara Wolfe
Summary: He never imagined that putting on that ring would change his entire life. AU.
1. Sorcerer's Duel

**Author's Note: **This plot bunny hit me literally as I was walking out of the theater after seeing _The Sorcerer's Apprentice. _There will be eventual Balthazar/Dave slash. Don't like, don't read. Flames will just be laughed at. _  
_

**Disclaimer:** Do not own. Property of Disney, et al. I'm just playing in their sandbox for a little while. _  
_

**Dragon's Heir**

**Chapter One: Sorcerer's Duel  
**

David Stutler was sure of one thing. If he made it out of this alive, he was going to listen to everything his mother told him. Eat your vegetables, look both ways before crossing the street, don't talk to strangers…

Yeah, he decided, scrambling out of the way as the fighting wizards, or whatever they were, got even closer, definitely that one about not talking to strangers. If he got out of this in one piece, he was never going to speak to another stranger for as long as he lived.

A crash startled him, and he yelped as a small, metal statue came crashing off a shelf to hit the floor inches from his feet. The statue rolled toward him as the ground shifted, violently, beneath him from an explosion. He grabbed the statue before it could roll away, clutching it convulsively to his chest as he scurried backward to take shelter under a desk.

Another explosion rocked the building, blowing out the storefront windows with a deafening crash of glass. The explosion was followed by a sheet of fire that left Bug Guy's hands to race around the walls of the shop, closing rapidly in on the other wizard. His wizard made a shooing gesture with his hand, and the fires died down, leaving scorch marks surrounding him on the floor.

To Dave, it looked like Bug Guy was winning, and he knew, instinctively, that it was not good. He cringed, biting down on his lower lip to keep from crying out as his wizard, the one who'd given him his ring, was thrown into a bookshelf, bringing the heavy shelving down on him as he fell to the floor.

Wait a minute, his ring. Dave stared at the small dragon wound around his finger, thinking. It had gotten them into this mess, maybe it could get them out. His hands were shaking as he held them out, aiming the ring at the fighting wizards. He focused on Bug Guy, imaging something slamming into him, just like he'd done when the wall had cracked open.

But, nothing happened, and Dave clenched his fists in frustration, holding his breath in anticipation as he made himself concentrate harder on shoving Buy Guy away from his wizard. He could feel pressure building behind his eyes, like the headaches he got sometimes, and then with a quiet pop, the pressure was gone.

At the same time, Bug Guy stumbled backward several steps, as though something had pushed him, and his wizard took advantage of the distraction to hit Bug Guy with another glowing ball. Forgetting himself, Dave let out a quiet cheer, and Bug Guy's head snapped around at the sound, his cold eyes staring right at him.

Dave whimpered in fear, inching backward into the hollow of the desk, as though it could protect him. What had first looked like a sturdy, wooden cave was now looking really small and flimsy. And, with a growing horror, he realized that there was nothing between him and Bug Guy but the scattered pieces of broken relics. A slow smile spreading over his face, Bug Guy started toward him, his hands outstretched.

A low, growling sound filled the air, and a second later, Bug Guy went flying through the air to slam into the far wall. His wizard stalked forward, energy crackling at his fingertips as he placed himself squarely between Dave and Bug Guy.

"No," he snarled, his voice sounding like the Henderson's Rottweiler when it was growling at the mailman. "You're not touching him."

Bug Guy smirked, standing up, and Dave really didn't like the look on his face. He looked like all the bullies who liked to corner him and beat him up after school.

"Do you really think that you can stop me, Balthazar?" he asked, a mocking tone in his voice. "I'm getting that Grimhold, one way or another."

"Run, Dave," Balthazar said, never taking his eyes off Bug Guy. "Get out of here, now."

Dave did as he was told, scrambling out from under the desk and heading for the door. He let the statue fall to the floor with a dull clunk, but the weird, red doll, which he'd almost forgotten about, was still tucked underneath his arm. He clutched the doll to his chest as he ran, focusing only on the door, ignoring the wizards behind him. That was how he missed the rug that bunched up under his feet, sending him sprawling on the hard floor as he lost his grip on the doll.

The doll rolled across the floor to rest against the closed door, evading his grasping hands as he tried desperately to grab it. Behind him, he heard a low chuckle, and he knew without even looking that Bug Guy was coming toward him. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the approaching monster, fearfully. He couldn't move, couldn't make himself crawl away, he could only watch as Bug Guy got closer and closer.

Then, with a yell, Balthazar tackled Bug Guy, knocking him to the floor. Locked together, they rolled into the big vase that Dave had almost knocked over, earlier, the one that Balthazar had said held a pirate's wife.

The vase fell over, making a hollow, booming sound as it hit the ground, and the lid popped off to roll across the floor. And then Dave watched in astonishment as Bug Guy, who was closest, started to get sucked inside the vase. He almost cheered until he realized that Balthazar was still holding onto Bug Guy, and that if he let go, Bug Guy would be able to get away from the vase.

"Dave, run!" Balthazar snapped out, grunting in pain as Bug Guy's elbow connected hard with his face.

There was a crunching noise like his nose had just broken, and Dave winced in sympathy. But, Balthazar held grimly on, even as he was being dragged closer and closer to the vase.

"I said go!" Balthazar yelled, and Dave thought that he could hear fear in the older man's voice.

Numbly, he shook his head, even as he wondered just what the hell he was doing. Before he could even think about it, he'd lunged forward, grabbing Balthazar's arm in his hands and digging his heels into the floor.

"Not you," he gritted out, holding on tightly as he felt himself being dragged across the floor along with them. "Don't want you to go."

"Let go!" Balthazar cried, and now there was desperation in his voice, desperation and fear, as they got closer and closer to the lip of the vase.

Bug Guy was almost completely inside the vase, now, leaving furrows in the floor as he dug in with his fingers to keep from being sucked in. Taking a chance, Dave freed one hand from his grip on Balthazar's arm, aiming his dragon ring at Bug Guy.

"Go away," he said, clearly, and the pressure that had been gathering behind his eyes burst out to slam into Bug Guy, driving him all the rest of the way into the vase.

Balthazar let go of the other man at the very last second, rolling away from the open mouth of the vase as the lid slammed back into place. A flick of his hand had the vase righting itself, rocking precariously before it settled on its base. Balthazar stared at the vase, breathing heavily with exertion, and he was quiet for so long that Dave thought that he'd been forgotten.

Then, to his amazement, he was being pulled across the floor and into Balthazar's arms, crushed against the man's chest as he hugged him, tightly. Dave could feel the Balthazar shaking underneath him, the wizard's heart beating an erratic rhythm against his cheek where it rested on the older man's chest.

"Don't you ever do that again," Balthazar scolded him, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. He held on even tighter as he added, "Don't you ever scare me like that, again."

"Yes, sir," Dave said, quietly, hesitantly putting his arms around Balthazar in a hug.

After a few seconds, he hugged him, tighter, snuggling against the older man's chest. It felt nice, being hugged like this, safe in a way that he hadn't felt since his dad had died. To his surprise, Balthazar didn't protest the embrace; he just let out a quiet sigh and tucked Dave more closely against him, resting his chin on top of Dave's head.

After about a minute, Dave reluctantly pulled away, straightening his jacket as he looked at Balthazar, who was still sitting slumped against the wall.

"Balthazar?" he asked, and the older man looked over at him, curiously. "Are all wizards as cool as you?"

"Sorcerers," Balthazar corrected him, with a small smile. "And, no. I'm in a class by myself."

"That bug guy," Dave ventured, shooting a nervous look at the seemingly-innocent vase. "Is he gone for good?"

"Well, for ten years," Balthazar told him. "I'm sure by then that I'll have found a way to deal with him permanently."

Dave had one more question, the big one, but he was too nervous to ask it. But, Balthazar must have seen something on his face because he nudged Dave's foot with his own.

"Something else on your mind?" he asked, quietly.

"Am I still your apprentice?" Dave asked in a rush, afraid that the answer was going to be no.

He'd screwed up by letting Bug Guy out of the weird doll, after all. And he hadn't listened to Balthazar when he told him to run. Why would Balthazar want someone like him for an apprentice?

But, to his surprise, Balthazar was smiling at him, an expression that lit up his whole face. Reaching over, he tousled Dave's hair, making him smile, involuntarily.

"Of course you're still my apprentice," he said, and Dave let out a breath that he hadn't even been aware of holding. "Now, come, Grasshopper. We have a lot of work to do."


	2. The First Lesson

**Author's Note: **Wow. I can honestly say that I did not expect this many reviews for this fic. You guys are incredible. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.

**Chapter Two: The First Lesson**

"Now," Balthazar said, pushing himself up from the floor, "your first lesson is in control."

Holding out a hand, he pulled Dave to his feet and led him to the center of the shop. With a wave of his hand, he cleared the floor of debris until a circle about ten feet across was bare. He twitched his fingers and Dave watched in amazement as glittering streams of light left his fingers to trace a path through the air before coming to rest on the hardwood floor.

The light blazed in a series of intricate patterns before fading into the floor, burning the patterns into the wood with a thin trail of smoke. When the smoke cleared, there was a circle traced on the floor, an intricate figure with whorls and lines emblazoned within.

"Step inside the circle," Balthazar instructed, and Dave did so, nervously. "Now, do you see those books just outside the circle?"

"Yeah," Dave replied.

"Hold out your hand," Balthazar told him, "the one with the dragon ring, and pick the books up."

"Without actually touching them, right?" Dave asked, knowing that it couldn't possibly be that easy.

"Without touching them," Balthazar confirmed. "See your hand extending beyond your body, and then pick the books up."

Dave frowned in concentration, extending his arm and focusing on the books. A now-familiar pressure started building behind his eyes, and he tried to imagine a hand reaching out and grabbing the books from where they were sitting on the floor. When nothing happened, he focused harder, but all that did was shove the books across the floor, further away from him.

"I can't do this," he groaned, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Yes, you can," Balthazar said, calmly, from where he was leaning against the wall watching him. "Just empty your mind and concentrate."

"Empty my mind," Dave repeated, dubiously.

But, he turned his attention back to the books, holding out his hand and concentrating, again. He tried to empty his mind, thinking of absolutely nothing, but that didn't work. The more he tried to think of nothing, the more thoughts clamored for his immediate attention. He was supposed to be focused, and instead all he could think about was the math test next Tuesday.

"Empty your mind," Balthazar repeated, as if he could read Dave's mind.

Which he very well might, for all Dave knew.

"If you can't empty your mind of all thoughts," Balthazar continued, "pick one, simple thing, and focus on it. Just on that one thing. And then pick the books up."

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Dave closed his eyes as he tried to pick something to focus on. His dragon ring immediately leapt to mind, and he went with the thought, focusing on the cool metal of the ring around his finger. The image of the dragon ring filled his mind until he couldn't see anything else, just the dragon's golden eyes burning into him. And it was silly, he knew, but he thought that he could feel the dragon watching him.

_'Pick up the books,' _a deep voice seemed to echo through his mind, a voice that he could have sworn he'd heard before.

Opening his eyes, Dave looked at the books and held his hand out, for a third time. As he concentrated, the pressure started building behind his eyes, again, and he bit his lip to keep the pain from distracting him. He tried to imagine a hand, like Balthazar had instructed, but instead the image of a net came to him. Shrugging his shoulders, Dave imagined a net, and slowly, he could feel a thin thread of magic leaving him to float through the air toward the books.

The glittering, golden thread of magic was followed by others that left his hand, weaving themselves into a pattern in the air. The threads of magic wound around the books, into a net that slowly lifted into the air, the books suspended inside.

"Well, come here," Dave said, automatically, feeling foolish as soon as the words left his mouth.

But, to his amazement, the glowing net began to move slowly toward him until the books rested in his outstretched hands. The net collapsed as soon as he was holding the books, dissolving into a shower of light that dripped toward the floor.

"Very nice," Balthazar said, suddenly, coming toward him. "Very creative, although I wouldn't have thought that you would be up to magical weavings, quite yet. You are going to be truly great, some day."

"Really?" Dave asked, pleased with the unexpected praise.

"Well, don't let it go to your head," Balthazar said, briskly, and Dave laughed.

"Hey, was that you talking in my head, a minute ago?" he asked, as he suddenly remembered the deep voice that had seemed so familiar.

"In your head?" Balthazar echoed, looking at him, curiously. "No, even your powers aren't up to telepathic communication, yet. You need to develop them, more."

"Huh," Dave muttered.

If the voice hadn't been Balthazar's, encouraging him, then whose had it been? He looked down at the dragon ring on his hand, as though it could provide the answers, and the golden topaz eyes winked back at him as the dragon's tail twitched, slightly.

"Balthazar?" he called out, in alarm, his tone bringing the older sorcerer running to his side. "I think it's alive!"

He held out his hand for Balthazar to see, where the dragon ring was definitely moving, twitching the tip of its tail as it shifted on his finger.

"Settle down," Balthazar scolded, sharply, tapping the dragon on the nose like he was talking to a disobedient puppy. "Do you want people to see you?"

"It's alive," Dave repeated, emphatically, trying to make Balthazar understand.

Magic or no, metal wasn't supposed to be alive. It certainly wasn't supposed to be looking at him, with eyes that glittered from the reflection of the light.

"Of course it's alive," Balthazar said, as if it was obvious. "Don't you remember how it reacted to you when I gave it to you?"

"Well, yeah," Dave said, "but I thought that was just-"

"Magic?" Balthazar finished for him, wryly. "Oh, it was. Just not magic like you were expecting."

"Then, what-" Dave started to ask, but Balthazar shook his head, cutting him off.

"That is a lesson for another day," he said. "Right now, we're still working on your control."

"Right," Dave agreed, trying to focus back on the earlier lesson. "Do you want me to pick more stuff up?"

"Everything on the floor that shouldn't be there," Balthazar told him.

Dave nodded, even as he cast a dubious look at the cluttered floor of the shop. A lot of stuff had been broken in the fight and the floor was a mess. His room at home was cleaner than this. But, Balthazar had told him to pick everything up, and he wanted to prove that the older sorcerer had made the right decision in taking him on as an apprentice. Even if it took him all day.

Turning his attention to the nearest pile of debris, Dave focused on the mostly-intact vase resting on the top of the pile. He thrust his hand out, intending to grab the vase in a net and lift it into the air. But, the power practically exploded out of him, and he watched in dismay as the vase shattered into a million pieces.

"That was really expensive, wasn't it?" he muttered, sheepishly, when Balthazar came over to see what he was doing.

"Now you see why you need to learn control," was all the older man said. "If you could do this to a vase, imagine what else you could do."

Dave shuddered at the scenarios his overly-active imagination came up with.

"Control, got it," he said, quickly. "So, how do I keep from doing this to people?"

"Meditation is the most effective way to learn control," Balthazar began, but the sound of the bell over the door drew their attention to the front of the shop.

Dave cringed at the sight of his teacher, Mrs. Williams, along with the rest of his class. But, the shop was dark, and she didn't seem to see him at first, turning her attention to Balthazar.

"Excuse me, sir?" she asked. "I'm looking for one of my students. Did a boy with a red backpack come into your store?"

"I'm right here, Mrs. Williams," Dave spoke up, moving to where she could see him, and his teacher's expression went from concerned to furious in just a few seconds.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, angrily.

"I'm sorry," Dave apologized, quickly. "I got lost and turned around, and I stopped in here to ask for directions back to the Chrysler Building so that I could catch up to the rest of the class."

"You're a terrible liar, Dave," Balthazar muttered under his breath, too low for anyone else to have heard him, but Dave glared at him, any way.

"You got lost," Mrs. Williams, repeated, skeptically.

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, and after a moment, she sighed.

"Don't wander away from the rest of the class, again, all right?" she told him. Turning to Balthazar, she shook his hand, quickly. "So sorry to have bothered you, Mr.-"

"Blake," Balthazar introduced himself, kissing the back of her hand in a gesture that had her blushing. "Balthazar Blake. And it was no bother at all. Dave and I were having quite a lovely conversation."

"Well, we'll be getting out of your hair, now," Mrs. Williams told him. "Come on, Dave."

She turned and ushered the rest of the class out of the shop, but Dave turned to Balthazar, instead, a panicked look on his face.

"What about our lessons?" he asked, in an undertone. "I'm supposed to be learning control, right?"

"I think you have enough control to keep from getting into trouble, for now," Balthazar told him. "And we'll have other lessons, later."

"But, how am I going to find this place, again?" Dave asked, worriedly.

It had been purely an accident that he'd found the shop in the first place, following Becky's letter. He wasn't sure he could find it again, even if he was looking for it.

"I'll find you," Balthazar assured him, giving him a push toward the door. "Go, before you get left behind, again."

"But," Dave protested, weakly, but Balthazar just pushed him out the front door and out onto the sidewalk.

Dave turned and glared at the closed door for a few seconds, wanting to go back inside, but the rest of his class was getting further and further away, and he didn't want to get in trouble. Hurrying after the group, he caught up to Becky, who was at the back of the group. She smiled at him as he stopped beside her, and he was suddenly reminded of why he'd entered the shop in the first place.

"Hey, Becky," he asked, and the girl looked over at him, curiously. "What was your answer? I kind of lost the note in that store."


	3. Heritage

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed. You guys rock! I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I am writing it.

**Chapter Three: Heritage**

"Bye, Mrs. Corey!" Dave said, as he climbed over his best friend, Bennett, to get out of the car. "Thanks for the ride."

"Tell your mother that I'll see her on Wednesday," Bennett's mother said, and Dave nodded as he shut the door.

He waved good-bye to his best friend before hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulder and heading into his apartment complex. He bypassed the elevator for the stairs, running up all five flights without even getting winded.

Of course, the way he felt right now, he could have run all the way to the roof and back down again. He felt good enough to fly, even.

_'I wonder if that's even possible,' _he thought, curiously, as he unlocked the front door to his apartment and went inside.

Out of long habit, he kicked off his sneakers at the door, pushing them off to the side where no one else would trip over them. His backpack he dropped on the couch, slinging his jacket over the back of the cushions. Tank, hearing him, came barreling in from the other room, nails clicking on the slick floor as he built up speed. Then, just as the bulldog hit his top speed, his paws slipped right out from underneath him, sending him skidding across the tile.

Dave laughed at the confused look on the puppy's face as he clambered back onto his paws, shaking his head so fast that the tags on his collar jangled.

"You want to go for a walk, buddy?" Dave asked, clapping his hands, encouragingly.

The puppy, recognizing the word walk, got worked up all over again, barking his head off as he ran toward the front door. Dave followed him, snatching the bright blue leash from its hook by the door and clipping it to Tank's collar. He slipped his key into his pocket before he opened the door, letting Tank charge out into the hallway.

Shutting the door behind him, Dave heard the locks click into place right as he realized that he hadn't put his shoes back on. Then, he shrugged as he and Tank headed for the elevator. It wasn't like he was allowed to walk Tank on the streets, anyway, and where he was going, he didn't really need shoes.

Pressing the button for the rooftop, he leaned against the wall of the elevator car, listening to the tinny Muzak being piped in through the speakers. When the doors opened onto the rooftop entrance, Dave unclipped Tank's leash and watched the puppy fly out onto the grass that covered the roof.

Some enterprising soul had turned the rooftop of their drab little building into a private little park-like area, with grass, gardens, and even a small stone fountain. And out of consideration for all the dog owners in the building, there was even a gravel area for the dogs to use. It was quiet and peaceful, the traffic far below a distant sound that barely intruded on the serenity.

Dave came up the roof all the time with Tank, to let him play and stretch his legs. But, now he thought that he might come up here for another reason.

Balthazar's words about meditation being good for control had stayed with him, and when the field trip had taken them to the New York Public Library, he'd checked out as many books on meditation that his backpack could carry. He'd spent the bus ride back to school, and then the ride back to his apartment, reading one of the books, and he wanted to give it a try.

Going over to the fountain, he sank down until he was sitting cross-legged on the smooth, cool stones that ringed the fountain. He tried tugging on his legs so that one foot rested on top of the opposite leg like he'd seen in one of the poses in the book, but it wasn't a very comfortable position, and he winced when the muscles in his legs protested.

After a few more seconds of half-hearted tugging on his leg, he quickly gave up on it, settling back against the fountain and letting his hands fall into his lap, instead. Since the point of meditation was to relax and let go of everything, he figured that he'd do better if he wasn't trying to bend himself like a pretzel the first time out.

Closing his eyes, he listened to the sound of water splashing down in the fountain, the low hum of the motor just audible beneath it. The book that he'd read had said the same basic thing that Balthazar had during their aborted lesson, that the key to meditation was to clear the mind of all distractions. He didn't think that he was going to have much better luck with that than he had, earlier, so he just focused on the dragon ring, again.

With his eyes still closed, he tried to imagine every detail of the ring, from the dragon's golden eyes and intricate scales, to the tiny words in another language that were etched along the underside of the tail. The sound of the water filled his ears until it was all he could hear, blocking everything else out.

Slowly, he could feel himself start to relax, could almost feel everything that was unimportant start to slip away. Then, he was jolted out of his reverie by something crashing into him. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Tank sprawled out across his lap, tongue lolling out as he panted, happily.

"You messed up my concentration," he groused, but he reached out and scratched the puppy behind his ears, getting a big, doggy grin in response.

Checking his watch, he saw that he'd been at his meditation attempt for almost ten minutes, and for a moment, he felt disappointed that he hadn't managed any longer. But, he rationalized after a moment, it was better than he'd during earlier, during his lesson with Balthazar, and he figured that was something to be proud of.

Pushing Tank off his lap, he stood and stretched, working out the stiffness that had crept into his legs even in just ten minutes. Someone had left a tennis ball up on the roof and he grabbed it, rolling it across the grass for Tank to chase after. He and the puppy played their modified game of catch until Tank flopped down on the grass, panting happily, and then they sat and watched the sun creep down toward the horizon.

When it was starting to get too dark to see, Dave clipped Tank's leash back on him and led the bulldog back to the elevator. Back in his apartment, he could hear the sound of the radio coming from the kitchen, and when he went to investigate, he saw his mom standing at the counter, tossing a salad. The timer on the stove dinged, suddenly, and he could smell pizza when his mom opened the door to check on dinner. His stomach growled embarrassingly loudly when he realized just how hungry he was, and he blushed when his mom turned and looked at him.

"Dinner's almost ready," she said when she saw him. "Go wash up."

Dave dashed off to the bathroom just down the hall. He turned the taps on, but before he could stick his hands under the water, the dragon ring came alive, the dragon uncurling its tail from around his finger and scrambling off his hand. The dragon perched on the hot water faucet, watching him with what seemed like interest as he scrubbed his hands.

"I guess you don't like getting wet," he said, feeling foolish for talking to the dragon, but to his amazement, the dragon shook its head, emphatically.

"Are you really alive?" he asked, dubiously, and he received a nod in return. "And you can understand me?"

Another nod, and then the dragon unfurled its wings with a snap and launched itself off the faucet, soaring around the room. On its second pass around the bathroom, the dragon snagged a hand towel that was hanging from the hook and dropped it on his head. Taking the hint, Dave quickly dried his hands off, hanging the towel back up.

As he turned to go back out to the kitchen, the dragon landed on his arm, again. Gliding down his hand, it curled its tail around his finger, reclaiming its earlier position.

"No moving around my mom, all right?" Dave hissed, before he left the bathroom. "I don't think she'd get it."

He still felt silly for talking to the dragon, even if it could understand him, but he needed to make sure that nothing weird happened where his mom could see it.

When he got back to the kitchen, his mom had just finished setting out dinner on the table, neatly sidestepping Tank who was shamelessly begging for scraps at her feet.

"How was your field trip, today?" she asked, as he sat down across from her.

"Pretty awesome," he replied, taking a big bite out of his pizza. "We got to go to the top of the Chrysler building and see the eagle statues. And we saw the library, which is huge."

"Sounds like a busy day," his mom commented, and Dave nodded.

"And I got lost and found this really cool, old antiques shop," he told her.

"You got lost," she repeated, incredulously, and Dave hastened to reassure her.

"Only a little," he protested, quickly. "And, besides, I met the guy who owns the shop and he's really neat."

"Is that where you got that ring?" his mom asked, nodding at the dragon on his finger. "I hope you didn't spend your entire allowance on just that."

"Nah," Dave said, "it was practically free."

"So, some stranger gave you something that looks very expensive for almost nothing," she commented, and there was a strange tone in her voice that had him looking up at her.

His mom's lips were pressed in a tight line, and she looked unhappy. He was confused for a second until he got why she was upset.

"Mom, nothing happened," he insisted. "Balthazar's not dangerous; he's not some weirdo like we learn about in school."

"And you know this for sure?" his mom asked, quietly. "David, you're ten years old. I know sometimes that it seems like you're invincible, but you're not."

"I know, Mom," Dave said, his overactive imagination drawing up scenarios of everything that could have happened.

"I'm not trying to scare you, sweetheart," she told him. "But, you need to be careful. I can't be there to protect you all of the time."

"I know," Dave repeated, feeling about two inches tall.

He hated the thought of scaring his mom, knowing that she was imagining him lying dead in some alleyway. And he was starting to wonder if she was right, if Balthazar wasn't as harmless as he'd seemed, and if he really had been lucky to get out there, intact.

As if it could hear what he was thinking, the dragon suddenly uncurled its tail and, to his horror, took off across the table to land in front of his mom. Dave groaned, dropping his head into his hands as his mom stared, open-mouthed, at the little metal dragon that paraded on the table in front of her.

When he dared to look, again, his mom had her hand stretched out as the dragon climbed into her palm, golden eyes staring up at her. Her mouth moved, soundlessly, as she watched the dragon move around on her hand.

"Mom, I can explain," Dave said, weakly, but it didn't seem as though she heard him.

All of her attention was on the dragon, her head cocked slightly to the side as though she was listening to something. The dragon took off from her hand, suddenly, landing lightly on her shoulder and weaving its sinuous body through her hair. The dragon rubbed the top of its head against her cheek before it took off, again, flying back to Dave and winding its tail around his finger as it landed.

"You and I have a lot to talk about," was all she said, her voice shaky.

Dave nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and turned his attention back to his dinner. They finished eating, quickly, and then he followed his mom into the living room. For once, his mom didn't wash the dinner dishes as soon as they were finished, and he knew she was rattled, especially when she didn't say anything about his backpack and coat on the couch.

Sitting down on the couch, he watched as his mom went through the photo albums on the top shelf of the bookcase. When she found the one she wanted, she sat down next to him and spread the album open over both of their laps, her fingers careful on the delicate, yellowed pages.

"This album belonged to my great-grandmother," she told him, as she slowly turned the pages. "These are the only pictures we have left of her family."

The pictures, all in grainy black and white, were of somber-looking people in formal dress, sitting in stiff poses as they scowled at the camera. That was why Dave was surprised when his mom stopped at a page with only one picture on it, and the subject of the picture actually smiling.

"This is your great-great-great grandmother, Evelyn Rourke," his mom said, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders. "She grew up in Ireland, where her parents were farmers."

"But she didn't stay there?" Dave asked, already anticipating the answer.

"Her parents were dead, and their farm had been destroyed in a fire," his mom told him. "She was eighteen, and pregnant, and alone. She paid for passage on a freighter headed to New York, and when she landed, she built a new life for herself and her unborn baby."

"Wow," Dave said, impressed. "But, if all that bad stuff had just happened, then why is she smiling?"

"She wanted her baby's life in America to be a good one," his mom replied. "And she knew that she couldn't start that life with a frown."

"She sounds amazing," Dave said, tracing Evelyn's picture gently with a finger.

"She was," his mom said, smiling as she squeezed his shoulders in a hug. "She was also," she continued, tapping the picture, gently, "supposed to be a witch."

"A witch?" Dave echoed, shooting his mom a skeptical look.

"According to my great-grandmother," his mom said, "her mother was forever casting little spells to keep food from spoiling, to keep rats out of their apartment, and to mend their clothes."

"She really had magic?" Dave asked, looking at the smiling woman in the picture in a new light.

"That's what everyone in the family said," his mom replied. "I always dismissed the stories as just that, stories, but now I'm not so sure."

"Do you think maybe I got my magic from her?" Dave asked, and his mom nodded.

"It's the most likely explanation," his mom said. "Although, I don't know how to explain that."

She nodded at the dragon, which had left Dave's hand to fly around the room, buzzing around Tank's head and driving the dog crazy. Tank was jumping into the air and snapping at the dragon that was staying just out of reach, teasingly.

"Get back here," Dave scolded, and after one more pass, the dragon landed on the edge of the couch, walking across his legs to look curiously at Evelyn's picture.

To his surprise, the dragon opened its mouth and trilled, a chiming sound that rang out like a bell. The dragon trilled a second time, seemingly satisfied with something, before it settled on its usual place on Dave's hand.

"I'm never going to get used to that," his mom said, with a sigh.

"Me, either," Dave admitted. Then, as a new thought occurred to him, he looked over at his mom. "Are you okay with me having lessons with Balthazar?" he asked, nervously.

He suspected that the dragon had told her about everything that had happened, earlier in the day. How, he had no idea, since the dragon didn't seem to talk, but considering how relatively calm his mom was about everything, there really was no other explanation.

"I want to meet this Balthazar, first," his mom said, firmly. "If he's going to be teaching you magic, then I want to know who he is."

"He'll probably show up here, at some point," Dave told her. "I hope so, anyway, because I don't know how to find him."

He and his mom looked at the rest of the pictures in the album for a little while, his mom sharing stories about her great-grandmother when she was growing up. Then, they worked on the dishes, his mom washing while he dried. The dragon had perched on his shoulder to get away from the water, again, and was watching them, curiously.

"It doesn't like water," Dave explained, when his mom looked at it, yelping when she splashed him, suddenly.

The water that splattered on his head and shoulders soaked the dragon, which shook itself all over like a dog, trilling indignantly at his mom. Then, the dragon took off across the kitchen as Dave splashed his mom, back, starting a brief but furious water fight. When they finished, nothing in the kitchen had been spared getting wet, and his mom was breathless with laughter as she tossed a towel at him to dry off.

"Go to bed," she told him, as he wiped his face off. "I'll finish cleaning the rest of this up."

"Love you, Mom," Dave said, hugging her before he went to his bedroom, detouring to the living room along the way to grab his backpack.

He got ready for bed, quickly, and when he went into his bedroom, Tank and the dragon were both on his bed, the dragon on his pillow and Tank at the foot of his bed. Tank was keeping a wary eye on the dragon, but his tail started wagging wildly when he saw Dave.

Dave crawled under the covers, trying to avoid knocking Tank off his bed, and as he settled down, the dragon curled up in the crook of his shoulder, the metal warming quickly against his skin. He could feel sleep coming over him, his eyes growing heavy, and he eventually gave up the fight to stay awake. He was almost asleep when he heard his door open, quietly, and his mom padding softly across the room.

She brushed a kiss across his forehead with a murmured, "I love you, Davey," and then blackness overtook him as he fell asleep.


	4. History Lessons

**Chapter Four: History Lessons**

When David woke up the next morning, for a wild moment, he was convinced that everything from the previous day had just been a bizarre dream. Then, as he lifted his hand to push his wayward hair away from his face, he saw the dragon ring sitting on his hand, the tail curled around his finger. As if it had sensed him looking, the dragon craned its head around, briefly, and winked at him, before settling back down on his finger.

"I guess it wasn't really a dream," he said, ruefully, and Tank lifted his head at the sound of his voice, yawning widely.

"You gotta go outside, buddy?" he asked, and Tank rolled to his feet and jumped off the bed, dashing between the bed and the door to his bedroom, his tail wagging, happily.

Dave got dressed, quickly, following Tank down the hall to the living room. He had just reached the door when he stopped, craning his neck around to look at the man sitting on the couch, the photo album on his lap open to Evelyn Rourke's picture.

"Balthazar?" he asked, incredulously, and the older man looked up at the sound of his voice.

"Good morning, Dave," he said, giving him a small smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," Dave answered, cautiously. Then, something occurred to him and he glanced down the hall to where his mom's room was. "Does my mom know that you're here?" he asked, not ready to put it past Balthazar to have just walked into the apartment, unannounced.

"She knows," Balthazar assured him. "We've been having a very interesting conversation."

"I have to go walk Tank," he said, as he considered the implications of Balthazar's words. "I'll be right back."

Taking Tank up to the roof, he let the dog stretch his legs for about fifteen minutes. Then, he leashed the dog up again, with promises of scraps from his breakfast if he was good. When he got back down to his apartment, the smell of French toast filled the kitchen, and both he and Tank were practically drooling by the time they reached the table.

He shouldn't have been surprised by the sight of Balthazar sitting at the table, but it took him aback for a few seconds. He wasn't sure what to make of the all-powerful sorcerer acting so normal.

"Hey, honey," his mom said, breaking into his thoughts as she dropped a kiss to the top of his head. "Hope you're hungry."

She laughed at her own joke, since, according to her, he must have had hollow legs to put away as much food as he did.

"Smells good, Mom," he told her, taking his usual seat at the table. "Thank you," he added, when she handed him a plate.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tank taking up his usual position, about a foot away from the table where he could keep an eye on everyone sitting there, just in case anyone threw him scraps of food.

"Thank you, Mrs. Stutler," Balthazar said, accepting his own plate.

"Call me Kathleen," she told him, as she sat down beside Dave. "If you're going to be my son's teacher, then we ought to be on a first name basis."

"So, you're okay with Balthazar teaching me magic?" Dave asked, hesitantly, making his mom pause.

"I wouldn't say that I'm okay with it," she replied, slowly. "Especially not with some of the things that you told me," she added, nodding at Balthazar. "But, I also don't think that it would be safe for you to walk around untrained and vulnerable."

"So, that's a yes?" Dave pressed, needing to know for sure.

"Yes," his mom confirmed. "You can learn magic with Balthazar."

"And our first official lesson is going to be as soon as you finish breakfast," Balthazar told him. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

Dave nodded, finishing his breakfast quickly and taking the dishes into the kitchen, rinsing them off before stacking them in the sink. When he went back out into the dining room, Balthazar had just finished his own breakfast, setting his plate off to the side.

"Thank you for the wonderful breakfast, Kathleen," he said, standing up. "Dave and I will be at this address, today," he continued, handing her a business card.

"The Arcana Cabana," his mom said, reading the card out loud. "Antiquities and artifacts."

"My store," Balthazar told her. "The store has a phone line, and I have a cell phone, so you should have no problem getting a hold of us at any time."

"Thank you," his mom said, obviously reassured by his words. "Don't blow my son up," she added, ruffling Dave's hair when his eyes went wide.

"I'm not going to blow you up," Balthazar told him. "Worst you might get is a little singed."

He laughed when Dave rolled his eyes, moving past him into the living room to grab his coat from where it was draped over the back of the couch. Then, he followed Balthazar down to the street, where the older man's car was parked at the curb.

"That's your car?" Dave asked, when he saw the Rolls Royce parked at the curb.

"That's my car," Balthazar said, with obvious affection in his voice. "Best car I've ever owned, and I had a Model A when Henry Ford first came out with them."

"It's awesome," Dave said, wonderingly, getting a grin from Balthazar in return.

"You'll do perfectly, kid," he said, opening the passenger side door. "Let's go."

While Balthazar navigated the busy streets, Dave stared out at their surroundings, practically glued to the window. He and his mom had only moved to New York two years ago, when she had been transferred for her job, and he'd found himself in awe of their new surroundings from the moment they got off the plane.

Even now, he still couldn't believe how lucky he was to live there, with everything New York had to offer. It amazed him how many people walked around with their noses buried in the datebooks and PDAs, focusing more on their cell phones and laptops than on the city around them. And he hoped he never became that jaded.

"I first came to New York in thirty-nine," Balthazar said, quietly, breaking into his thoughts. "The World Fair was debuting, and I heard President Roosevelt give the opening speech."

"Really?" Dave asked, turning to look at the older man. "What was that like?"

"Amazing," Balthazar told him. "Even with everything I've seen and done in my life, I will never forget seeing so many people embrace a brighter future."

"Sounds like you really like it in New York," Dave remarked.

"There is no other place like it," Balthazar answered.

Twisting the steering wheel, suddenly, he executed a quick maneuver to slide the car into a tight space between two other vehicles parked in front of the Arcana Cabana. Dave was pretty sure he'd felt the car move completely sideways before it stopped, and he wondered how much magic Balthazar had used to accomplish the move.

"Here we are," Balthazar announced.

Dave moved to open the door, only realizing then that his fingers were practically imbedded into the door handle. He had to peel his fingers away from the leather, one by one, before he could get out. And he was suddenly glad that he hadn't paid that much attention to the rest of the drive over, if just parking made him that nervous.

"Next time," he asked Balthazar, as the older man joined him on the sidewalk, "could we maybe walk?"

"Everyone's a critic," Balthazar sighed, digging into his coat pocket and coming up with a large, brass key.

Opening the front door, Balthazar ushered Dave inside. He flicked on the overhead light as Dave moved ahead of him into the shop, moving carefully around the stacks so that he didn't knock anything over. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of last time.

"Over here," Balthazar said, and Dave joined him by the bookcases that lined the back wall of the shop. "I trust that you remember this?" he continued, lifting something off of a shelf.

"Yeah," Dave said, accepting the tiny book that Balthazar tipped into his hand. "But, I remember it being a lot bigger."

"That's the pocket size," Balthazar told him.

Reaching out, he tapped the book with a finger, and Dave watched in amazement as the book shifted in his hands, growing and expanding until it was much larger. Then, another tap had the book growing thicker, until it was so heavy that Dave was practically staggering under the weight.

"This," Balthazar continued, taking the book from him, "is your Incantus. It is your guide to magic, filled with spells and other information. Aside from your ring, it is the most important tool you will own."

"About the ring," Dave asked, running his fingers lightly over the metal, the dragon preening under his touch, "last night, the dragon came to life in front of my mom. And then it was flying around the house all night; it didn't stay on my finger, at all."

"That's a measure of control," Balthazar told him. "For now, at least, without the ring you are as powerless as any other sorcerer. Without the dragon ring on your hand, you cannot accidentally perform any magic."

"So, it'll stop as I get more control?" Dave guessed, and Balthazar nodded. "Will it stop, completely?" he asked, realizing that he was actually disappointed by the possibility.

"Not likely," Balthazar told him. "Your power may have awakened the ring, but now that it's alive, it's not going to want to go back to being a statue, again."

The dragon was nodding along with Balthazar's words, like it agreed with the older man, and Dave shook his head in amazement.

"It's like having another pet," he remarked.

"One that you don't need to feed or clean up after," Balthazar pointed out. "Magic is what brought it to life, and it is what continues to sustain it."

"That's pretty cool," Dave said, thinking about it.

"It did the same thing with Merlin, you know," Balthazar told him. "Or, it tried, anyway. He was much more strict with it than you are, and the dragon had much less freedom."

"Wait a minute, Merlin?" Dave asked, stunned. "_The_ Merlin?"

"The one and only," Balthazar answered. "He was my master in sorcery."

As Dave's eyes bugged out in shock at the information, Balthazar led him over to the window seat on the far wall. They sat down side by side, and Balthazar spread the Incantus open over both their laps.

"The history of magic," he began, as Dave looked down at the book, "stretches back thousands of years. Maybe even millions. There has been magic in the world for as long as there has been life."

"So, not just humans have magic?" Dave asked, and Balthazar turned a page in the Incantus to a sketch of a lizard-type creature standing on its back legs.

"There are creatures that have walked this earth far longer than any human," Balthazar told him. "But, that is another lesson. This lesson focuses on our magic."

"When I first came into the shop," Dave said, "you told me that I was going to be very powerful. How do you know?"

"There are two schools of magic," Balthazar said. "Merlinians, or sorcerers who follow the teachings of Merlin, and Morganians, who follow Morgana."

"And we're Merlinians?" Dave guessed, as Balthazar gave him an exasperated look over the interruption.

"I am a Merlinian," he corrected. "You are someone very special. You are the Prime Merlinian."

"What's that?" Dave asked, intrigued.

"The Prime Merlinian is the sorcerer for whom I have been searching for over a thousand years," Balthazar said. "You are not just any sorcerer, Dave. You are a direct descendant of Merlin, himself. His blood runs through your veins; his power is your power."

"I'm related to Merlin?" Dave asked, stunned. "He's like my great-great-great grandfather, or something?"

"Well, there are many more generations between you and him, "Balthazar said,"but, yes."

"So, if there are Merlinians and Morganians," Dave said, puzzling it out, "and I'm the Prime Merlinian, does that mean that there's a Prime Morganian, as well?"

"We always suspected," Balthazar said. "But, if Morgana had an apprentice with that kind of power, she certainly kept him or her under very close watch."

"So, there could be someone out there who's worse than Bug Guy?" Dave asked, dread in his voice.

"Bug Guy?" Balthazar asked, confused. "Oh, you mean Horvath. Yes, there is that possibility."

"Great," Dave muttered. "So much for sleeping, tonight."

"You don't need to worry," Balthazar told him. "No one is going to get at you or your mother while I'm around."

The bell over the front door jangled, suddenly, and Balthazar looked up as a family entered the shop, looking around in amazement.

"Keep reading the Incantus," Balthazar told him, standing up and heading for the front desk. "If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask." He hesitated, and then added, "And don't blow anything up."

Dave rolled his eyes at Balthazar's retreating back, jumping slightly when the sorcerer called out, "And if you keep making faces like that, your face is going to freeze that way."

"That was spooky," Dave muttered, to himself.

He stretched his legs out on the window seat, the Incantus balanced on his legs. He folded his legs to hold the book more comfortably and started to read, unsurprised when the dragon clambered off his hand and settled on the crook of his neck.

"Going to keep me from blowing stuff up?" he asked, quietly, so that the customers didn't hear him, and the dragon trilled softly in reply.

As he started to read, he found himself being absorbed by the material in the book. The section on the history of magic was useful, although he found it kind of dry. He suspected that it was the sort of subject that was more interesting when Balthazar explained it, himself. Especially if he could persuade Balthazar to add his personal stories to the mix.

There was also a whole section on magical creatures, but Balthazar had promised to explain them in another lesson, so Dave only skimmed over the section, briefly, before moving on. His favorite section, though, was the one dealing with the theory of magic. There were long, detailed explanations of how the various spells worked, as well as variations that had been attempted, both successful and not.

The more he read, the more fascinated he became, and he couldn't wait until he could try some of the spells for himself. He lost himself in his reading, answering Balthazar absently, if at all, when he asked a question. At one point, the older man tried to get him to stop for lunch, but Dave practically bolted down his food so that he could get back to the Incantus. Settling back in his seat, he picked up where he'd left off, blocking everything else out.

"Having fun?" a voice asked from above him, and Dave looked up, startled, to see Balthazar standing beside the window seat.

Dave started to move, to give Balthazar room to sit down, and then he winced when his neck protested at the movement. Shifting over, he glanced out the window and was shocked to see how late it was. The sun was setting in the distance, and Dave realized that he'd been sitting there for longer than he'd originally thought.

"You're like I was when I first became an apprentice," Balthazar told him. "Entranced by everything that you learn, and eager to learn everything right now."

"My head is going to hurt, later," Dave said, ruefully. "Some of this stuff is really challenging."

"It's nothing you can't handle," Balthazar assured him. "If those scientific journals in your apartment are any indication of your normal reading material, than this should come naturally. Both are very similar, you know."

"Really?" Dave asked. "Science and magic are related?"

"Not just related," Balthazar answered. "Entwined. But, that is definitely another lesson. Right now, I need to get you back home. Any longer, and your mother is going to worry."

Dave nodded, obediently, and started to stand. But, he was brought up short by the weight of the Incantus on his lap.

"Balthazar?" he asked, "can you shrink the book, again, so it's not so heavy?"

"No," Balthazar said, "but you can."

Dave wasn't so sure of that, but he heaved the book off his lap and onto the window seat beside him. The dragon slid off his shoulder and wound its way around his finger as he stood up, and Dave reached out and hesitantly tapped the book like he'd remembered Balthazar doing. Nothing happened, and he started to feel foolish.

"Try again," Balthazar said, encouragingly. "It's a matter of will with these types of spells. Just clear your mind and imagine what you want to happen. Then, make it so."

_'Shrink,'_ Dave thought, determinedly, tapping the cover of the book, again.

Then, to his amazement, the book started to fold in on itself until it was about the size of the palm of his hand. When he picked it up, it was much lighter than it had been, before.

"Very good," Balthazar said, and Dave grinned at the praise. "Come on," Balthazar continued, laying a hand on his shoulder and steering him toward the door. "Time to go home."

"There's still so much I want to learn," Dave protested, but he went along willingly enough.

"Don't worry," Balthazar said. "The wonders of the universe will still be there, tomorrow."


	5. Facing Fears

**Author's Note: **It's an update! Finally, right? *ducks rotten tomatoes* Seriously, though, sorry for the long wait, hopefully I'll be able to get the next one out sooner.

**Chapter Five: Facing Fears**

"You know, Dave, your food isn't going to sprout legs and walk off the table. Although, with you, that's certainly a possibility."

As his mother's voice penetrated the haze that had surrounded him all morning, Dave looked up at her, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth.

"What?" he asked, and Kathleen smiled fondly at the confused expression on his face.

"You can slow down," she told him, nodding at the pancakes on the plate in front of him. "The food isn't going to disappear."

"Sorry," Dave muttered, sheepishly. "I guess I'm just nervous."

"Nervous about what?" Kathleen asked. "I thought you liked school."

"I do," Dave protested, quickly. "It's just-"

"Just what, sweetie?" Kathleen prompted, when he fell silent.

"It's my first day back at school since I found out about my magic last Friday," Dave mumbled, quietly.

"Scared?" Kathleen guessed, sympathetically.

"Terrified," Dave told her. "I mean, what if I mess up? What if I turn someone into a toad, or something?"

"I can think of a few people who might benefit from turning into toads," Kathleen muttered, startling a laugh out of her son.

"I'm serious," Dave protested, through his chuckling.

"I thought you and Balthazar had this whole issue sorted out," Kathleen reminded him. "The dragon is going to stay off your hand while you're at school, and there shouldn't be any accidents."

"Yeah," Dave said, hesitantly, "but I was reading the Incantus, last night, and it said that I'm supposed to be able to use my magic without the ring, someday. And, it's just, I don't want to screw up."

The dragon trilled, sharply, before Kathleen could say anything, breaking off from where it was flying around Tank's head, teasing the dog, to land on the table in front of Dave. Stalking across the table to crawl up his arm, the dragon clambered on top of his head, leaning down to look him in the eye. Then, with another piercing trill, the dragon leaned down far enough to bite him on the nose.

"Ow," Dave protested, reaching up and swatting irritably at the dragon.

The dragon let out a sound like a throaty chuckle and flew away, evading his hand. Dave grabbed a napkin from the middle of the table and held it over his nose. After he'd figured that the bleeding had stopped, he pulled the napkin away and glared at the pinprick spots of blood that decorated the white tissue.

"What was that for?" he demanded, glaring at the dragon.

"I think it was telling you not to worry about losing control of your magic," Kathleen told him, with a smile. "Although," she added, pointedly looking over at the dragon which had gone back to circling around Tank's head, "maybe next time you could be a little gentler about it?"

"Yeah," Dave muttered, irritably. "Now, I don't feel guilty about having to leave you in my backpack all day."

"Is that what this is about?" Kathleen asked, with a small smile. "Give me a second."

Dave watched, slightly confused, as she disappeared down the hall in the direction of her bedroom. He was about to follow her, but then he was distracted by Tank, who had managed to grab the dragon's tail between his teeth. The dragon trilled in indignation, doubling back on itself to bat its wings at Tank's nose, making the puppy growl, even though he stubbornly refused to let go.

"Tank, knock it off," Dave snapped, moving forward to separate the squabbling pair. "You, too," he scolded the dragon, catching it with his free hand and managing to work its tail out of Tank's grip. "And, to think, Balthazar said that you weren't going to be any trouble."

The dragon ignored him to scramble out of his hand and up on his shoulder, shrieking insults at Tank from his perch. Tank leapt into the air, trying to reach the dragon, and he slammed clumsily into Dave's legs, making him stagger backward from the impact.

"Tank, lay down," Kathleen barked out, sharply, snapping her fingers and making the puppy drop to the floor. "And, you, stop that noise," she added, to the dragon. "We don't need the neighbors complaining."

When the dragon fell silent, Dave looked at his mother in surprise.

"Wow," he remarked. "I didn't think it was going to listen to anyone."

"You just have to know how to talk to it," Kathleen told him. "Oh, here."

She held out her hand, and Dave automatically caught the chain that she dropped into his hand. Holding it up for closer inspection, he saw that what looked like a simple chain was actually a trio of braided strands of metal, twisted to form a rope.

"What's this for?" Dave asked, curiously.

"Put it on," Kathleen encouraged him, instead of answering.

Dave fastened the chain around his neck, and then he laughed when the dragon scrambled down his arm to wrap its tail around the chain. Tucking its wings tight against its sides, the dragon hung motionless from the end of the chain, its amber eyes reflecting the sunlight that came through the windows.

"This way," Kathleen told him, as she reached out to adjust the necklace where it lay on his chest, "you'll be able to keep an eye on the dragon, all day."

"Thanks," Dave said, brushing a finger lightly over the dragon's smooth scales.

"Have a good day at school," Kathleen told him, then her eyes widened when she glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. "Pick up the pace, kiddo, or you're going to be late for school."

Grumbling under his breath, Dave ran into the front room and grabbed his shoes from where they were sitting beside the door, hopping as he shoved his feet inside. He snagged his jacket out of midair as his mother tossed it to him, shrugging into the coat and slinging his backpack over his shoulders. Then, after giving his mother a quick hug, he ran out the door.

Bypassing the elevator for the stairs, he jogged the five flights down, sprinting through the lobby and out to the sidewalk. Then, he groaned, his shoulders slumping, as he stepped outside just in time to see the bus disappearing in a cloud of dust.

Dave huffed a sigh, trying to consider his options. Walking was out of the question; same with catching the subway. If he tried either of those options on his own, his mother would certainly kill him, if some creepy stranger didn't. He could go back upstairs and tell his mom about missing the bus. But, they didn't have a car of their own, so if he went upstairs, his mom would have to either walk with him to school, or take him there on the subway, which would make her late for work. And he knew that they couldn't afford that.

"I don't suppose you know some sort of spell that I can use to just teleport myself to school?" he asked, the dragon, ruefully.

To his surprise, the dragon let out a sharp, trilling whistle before falling silent, again.

"What the heck was that?" Dave asked, incredulously.

He'd just turned back toward the apartment building, resigned to going inside and giving his mom the bad news, when he heard the sound of a horn honking behind him. He turned, a huge smile spreading across his face when he saw Balthazar's car parked in front of his building.

"You're not just going to stand there all day, are you?" Balthazar called out, as the passenger side window rolled down. "Come on, get in."

"How'd you even know I needed your help?" Dave asked, as he climbed into the car and put his backpack in the back seat.

"Sorcerer, remember?" Balthazar teased him. "The dragon called me."

"You got here really quickly," Dave remarked.

Balthazar just gave him an enigmatic smile, and Dave had the feeling that he wasn't going to be getting the answer to that puzzle any time soon.

They drove to school with Balthazar's usual disregard for traffic laws, or the laws of physics, for that matter, and Dave white-knuckled it the entire way there. They arrived at his school right as his bus was pulling in, and Dave shot the older sorcerer a disbelieving look.

"Remind me to never take driving lessons from you," he said, pointedly, as he reached back to grab his backpack.

"You're going to have to be a lot older before I let you drive this car," Balthazar retorted, dryly. "Both of you, behave," he added, looking at both Dave and the dragon. "I don't want to have to hear that you burned the school down."

"I'm not going to burn the school down," Dave scoffed, and then he shot Balthazar a worried look. "I can't burn the school down, right? I mean, I don't have that kind of power."

"Just be careful," was all Balthazar told him.

Only slightly mollified, Dave climbed out of the car, but he stopped when Balthazar called out to him.

"What time do you get out of school?" Balthazar asked.

"About three, why?" Dave asked.

"I'll meet you, here, when you get out of class," Balthazar told him. "I think it's time to start your practical lessons."

"You mean I get to use magic?" Dave asked, excitedly, breaking out into a huge grin when Balthazar nodded.

"Have a good day," the older man wished him, and then he drove off, leaving Dave standing alone on the sidewalk.

Dave sighed, turning around and looking at the brick building that hadn't looked nearly so imposing last Friday. But, then, he hadn't had the ability to light things on fire just by looking at them the wrong way, then. He knew he shouldn't be scared, not with the dragon looking out for him, but the thought of making a mistake practically paralyzed him with fear.

For just a second, he contemplated skipping school and just finding someplace isolated to hang out until three. But, he just as quickly dismissed the idea. Both his mother and Balthazar would probably kill him for it.

"I might as well just go inside, right?" he muttered, and the dragon surprised him by hooking its talons into the front of his shirt and climbing up until it could nuzzle his cheek.

"You're right," he said, with a sigh. "I can't duck my fears, forever."

The dragon trilled softly in agreement, making him laugh. Then, he heaved a heavy sigh, looking toward the school building, again.

"Here goes nothing," he declared, and then he joined the crush of kids moving toward the entrance.


End file.
